“Lord Sarutobi...this path becomes more and more dangerous. The fact that you haven’t died already is truly amazing...I don’t want to have to be there when you...when you finally aren’t so lucky...” The concerned voice moved through Mitsuo, not entirely registering what had been said to him at first. His body had been healed from the wounds that he had suffered while attempting to stop that...monster from the mist. He didn’t know who it was, but it was clearly someone who had the ear of the Mizukage, as he held the sword of the Captain of the Seven Swordsmen, a sword that had once been offered to Mitsuo. The Monkey King Eizo continued to speak in Mitsuo’s ear as he lay in the healing pool of the Monkey Kingdom where Eizo had brought him to recover, his home for at least a week, if not longer this time. He had lost track of the time that had passed, but he was certainly feeling more relaxed while resting in the healing waters. His wounds were gone, as was the migraine that he had experienced after activating his Stunning Eye in the middle of an intense battle.

Being in the waters reminded him of one of the earliest times that he and Ayakashi had met...the two of them sailing out from the docks of Kirigakure to take the fight to the general of the Seven Bells army, Mizuru. Mitsuo had defeated her once before with the help of Yuudai Aisu, one of the relatives of the Mizukage, who at the time had been believed dead, but Mizuru had just been able to somehow slip away from the fatal attacks of fire and ice. The forces sailed out to meet the demon as Mitsuo had ran across the water himself, using his tremendous speed to carry him along. The forces of Konohagakure, Kirigakure and Kumogakure went to meet their foe, and among them was the Ice Queen resurgent, back from the dead and looking more impressive than ever. They would be joined by the Hokage, Mitsuhide, and would take on their foe, as well as a surprise attack from the village of Kumogakure, or so it had seemed. It had been one of the greatest honours of Mitsuo’s shinobi career to be able to fight alongside two of the greatest shinobi the world had seen of his generation, and to be counted equal among them...

“Mitsuo? Are you listening to me?”

Hers was the only chakra that he had ever come across that measured up to his, and it was truly awe inspiring and terrifying to behold a being of such raw power. There was a passive chill around her, the water glazing over as she stepped and the rain freezing to hail as it passed near her. They were exact opposites in their chakra, and it reflected in their demeanour. She seemed so cool and collected, as though nothing could ever effect her, and he was aflame with passion, always boiling over the surface. There was no way that two beings such as them should have been able to work together, let alone become friends after, but there it was. That battle had sealed the Mizukage’s slot as one of the very few people in the world that Mitsuo respected, and one of fewer whom he considered a friend. It was she who had allowed her cousin, Strafe, to leave the village to be with Mitsuo due to her love for the two of them and knowing their love for one another. She had welcomed him back with opened arms after vanishing from the shinobi world to travel for so long, and whether or not he wanted to admit it, she had saved his life when he was put on trial for his part in the destruction of Sunagakure.

“Mitsuo! Answer me!”

The Monkey King’s raised voice rang through Mitsuo’s ears and snapped him back to reality. Gone was the temple in Kumogakure where the kage had met to decide his fate, and come once again was the beautiful scene that he had been blessed to be able to stay. The cherry blossoms fell from the trees around him in the stone courtyard of the healing temple, gold, red and black decor tastefully highlighting the beautiful natural location of the place. The Monkey Kingdom was deep inside of a lush green forest, and it was well hidden from the prying eyes of any who might wish to do them harm. Mitsuo had spent almost as much time here as he had in Konoha during his adult life, and it wasn’t something that he was upset about at all. This place felt like home to him, or as close to home as anything could that didn’t have his family. Unfortunately, by that logic, the only place that would truly feel like home to him again was the afterlife...

“I’m sorry Eizo...I have been lost in thought...seeing that demon, fighting it, vexed me. His evil was so intense, the corruption running so deep within him. And to think that Ayakashi had made him the captain of the Seven Swordsmen makes me sick...” A servant dressed in a beautiful red and gold saree brought Mitsuo a glass of wine as another poured water over his head and shoulders, rinsing his hair. He often wondered if he would simply be able to stay here forever, forsake the life of the shinobi and live out his days in peace and luxury. He, of course, knew that this was impossible, as the world needed him, but he had still wanted to live out that fantasy.

“Perhaps you should seek her out, Lord Sarutobi. She may be the most powerful shinobi in the world, but sometimes even the most powerful people need a friend to talk too. It has been too long since the two of you met, and clearly you have things that you want to ask her...You should go to her and find the answers you seek.”

Mitsuo sighed, running his fingers through his wet black hair and shaking his head. He knew Eizo was right, and he knew that there was no way he wouldn’t be able to go to her. “Very well Eizo...I will write to her and ask her to meet me...Have someone deliver the letter and I will meet her one week from this day...I will finally speak to my friend once again...”



The sun was setting over the Bloody Mist Village, though from behind the clouds it was impossible to see. The rain poured down from the heavens with a vengeance, as though trying to punish the Sword Saint who sat defiantly in the open, manipulating the weather to his will. Despite standing in the downpour for the past half an hour, he managed to remain perfectly dry, not a single drop of water on the toned down clothing that he wore. He wore his ANBU armour overtop of a mesh shirt, none of the pomp and pageantry he tended to dress with as of late. He had turned in the robes for a more familiar dress that he had been known for during the days of the Seven Bells war. While he wore not the cloak of the Aoi Bara, his Shroud of Shadows sat upon his shoulders, the feathers and chakra infused material it was made of currently visible and clasped in place with the Sigil of Kirigakure that had been gifted to him by Ayakashi herself. He wore no weapons, though as always had them but a simple seal away, and sat beside a fire that he was keeping lit through sheer force of will.

The rain around the Sword Saint seemed to simply stop existing, repelled by the immense heat that he was giving off in an attempt to stay dry. His impressive chakra signature would be visible from far away, but he wasn’t worried about that. He wanted Ayakashi to know where he was, and what better way for a man known for mastery of fire than to have a fire in the middle of a downpour? He sat by the fire, face illuminated, as the scene through the rains would show a light where there shouldn’t be one. He sighed softly and activated a small seal, pulling a cigarette from the void and placing it to his lips. He held his thumb and two forefingers below the cigarette and produced a flame at the tips, drawing the smoke deeply into his lungs before passing it back out of his nose.

She would be here soon...he could feel it...

1557

Mitsuo Sarutobi prided himself on his diligence; it was a trait that made him especially adept at his position of Head of Konoha’s ANBU when he had led them years ago. He was someone who never missed a detail, or at least that was what he believed, as it was impossible to know what things one had missed over the years. Missed details led to death, and such things had proven to have gotten the better of Mitsuo in the past, which was why he made sure that he wouldn’t allow it to happen again. He had lost a lover and a brother to a simple missed detail, and the life of the man who was responsible had gone on far longer than it ever should have due to those missed details. A simple detail, though he didn’t know it, was also the reason why his oldest friend, Mitsuhide, had never believed that he had died...

It seemed only appropriate that the Sword Saint of Konoha would miss an obvious detail on this night. He had his gaze affixed towards the village, using only his eyes to attempt to track the movings of any who would come near, but never reaching out with his other senses in order to find them. He could have activated his Wings of the Saint sensory jutsu, but in this type of weather the winds were far more difficult to read. With his own power flared so much he managed to miss the equally as potent chakra signature that watched from the top of the impressive monument which he stood near, not noticing the fact that the woman he had come to meet had been waiting for him to notice her. When he heard her voice, it was the first time she had spoken to him, truly spoken to him, since...

The assembled powers of the world sat atop a great monument in the village of Kumogakure. Beings that could nearly be considered to be of a divine level of power, were the man on trial willing to believe that individuals could be such things. He knew better, of course, having been put on his path by the gods themselves. He knew he was no god, having been put on trial, convicted and publicly hanged for crimes he had never committed in the past. It was in that moment, the moment where he should have breathed his last breath, that he had been told he was chosen for bigger things and his death could not come so soon, whether he wished for it or not. He remembered feeling robbed at first, the chance to live happily with his family and his lover in the afterlife being snatched from him, but he was soon filled with a great resolve in the place of that sadness.

The man who sat at the head of the assembly would have been easy to mistaken as the living embodiment of Raijin, the God of Lightning and Thunder. Mitsuo could picture drums circling the beautifully dressed man, his neat blonde hair and intense eyes staring holes through whoever he focused his gaze upon. The element that he associated with radiated off of him, and the danger of lightning was ever present upon the man’s face and in his words and actions. Mitsuo knew that with one wrong word the man would fry him where he stood, though he feared not death, as he had staved it off many times in the past and he knew that were he to die his mission would be taken up by hundreds more...

The woman nearby was Yukijoro, the Snow Woman. Hers was a powerful both beautiful and terrible, and she was a spirit that many children had been warned not to go outside, believing that she would freeze them solid. Her beauty was haunting and unmatched, but her eyes would strike terror into any mortal...or so the stories went. Mitsuo knew this woman better than many, and she was someone whom he had the pleasure of calling friend. She was certainly no demon, as the people may believe...

And then, of course, was the Shinigami himself. Seen by some as saviour, and others as monster, this man was simply working towards keeping the balance in the world. Darkness shrouded him and his once brilliant white wings were stained black, the fallen angel reaching out his hand to usher mortals to the afterlife. His divinity was a gift and a curse, and death was an important part of life, though not all could understand such things. This avatar of Death, Mitsuo Sarutobi, understood full well that death could not be avoided, though it wouldn’t stop him from wishing it could...

When the assembly had come to a close, the Shinigami being sentenced to be shackled by Raijin, it was Yukijoro who showed regret for the action. Ayakashi had a look of sadness on her face when Mitsuo was sentenced to serve his days in the village of Kumogakure, and Mitsuo knew that had she been able too she would have had him set free, or at least brought back to her village. He also knew that had he been brought back to Kirigakure it could have started a violent uprising in the village people, as harbouring someone who was seen as a terrorist and a villain was not something that most would agree with. He understood the position she had been put in, and it deeply saddened him...


Mitsuo heard her land upon the ground, looking behind him as he took another drag of the cigarette before putting it into the fire. The two of them were a complete contrast, the woman in front of him regal in her demeanour and look, though still terrifying in her presence. Where Mitsuo’s power simply ceased the rain from existing around him, Ayakashi’s was a much more beautiful display. Where she landed and around where she stood there was no rain, though what was there was far more dazzling to behold. The fresh powder snowflakes that fell around her were simply gorgeous, each snowflake its own unique design, twinkling in the light of the fire emanating from Mitsuo’s area. A smile crossed his lips as he saw the snow building on the ground around her feet, knowing that she truly was as close to a goddess as he would likely encounter walking this earth.

She opened her arms and he bit his lips slightly, moving towards her and allowing his chakra to subside, making it so that the heat only covered his body, the pouring rain quickly putting out the fire that he had been sustaining when he stopped protecting it. He managed to stay dry, however, and he tightly wrapped his arms around the woman, feeling the cold that was a part of her being as the temperatures of the two of them exchanged places. It truly was an amazing thing to experience, and while she seemed cool to the touch, the warmth that he felt as he embraced one of his closest friends wouldn’t allow that cold to penetrate him.

“I have missed you too my friend...I have missed you dearly...” His voice was softer than the normal vibrato he generally put into his speech. This was not someone whom he was evangelizing too, trying to spread his message of Justice towards. This was no individual walking a dangerous path whom he needed to show the light...this was his friend, one of his best, and he felt the persona that he had carried with him for so long fall away quickly around her. “I am sorry for any grief I have caused you...I wish I hadn’t put you in such a difficult spot...I never meant to do such a thing...”

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